


Who I Am

by Flusion



Category: Fire Emblem Series, Fire Emblem: Kakusei | Fire Emblem: Awakening
Genre: Blood and Injury, Drama, F/M, Minor body dysphoria, Non-Consensual Groping, Other, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Racism
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-02-20
Updated: 2021-02-20
Packaged: 2021-03-17 19:49:31
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,312
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29597883
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Flusion/pseuds/Flusion
Summary: Robin is dumped into an unfamiliar world in an unfamiliar body. She nigh immediately finds out that the world is out to get her. It seems so at least. Many of those around her make it clear where they stand regarding her.She needs to deal with the people set against her, as well as her own self. She woke up unsure of where she was, but that's something to be taken in stride. She woke up unsure of her very state of being, and that's much harder to deal with.
Relationships: Chrom & My Unit | Reflet | Robin, Chrom/My Unit | Reflet | Robin/My Unit | Reflet | Robin





	Who I Am

I wake up, or am woken up rather, in the middle of an idyllic field. I wake up with two people leaning over me and the sun gentle on my face.

The man speaks, and his voice is warm and reassuring.

“There’re better places to take a nap than on the ground, you know,” He says.

He reaches out his hand, “Here take my hand.”

I grab hold. Wow his hands are large. Larger than mine. He pulls me up, and wow. Oof. Everything is dizzy. 

I teeter and have to lean my weight against him-wow he’s tall. I’m not used to being shorter than people. Smaller than people.

I turn my head to look over at the girl, and the man behind her. He’s even larger, and in full plate armor. It makes me feel kind of small.

I look down at myself, just a once-over as I adjust my clothing. It feels kind of wrong somehow. How I look, but I’m not sure.

I nod to the man who helped me up, “Thank you,”

And that’s where everything comes crashing down. That’s not my voice.

I’m sure I have some kind of stupid look on my face. I look around and try to take note of everything. There’s a tree nearby. Nothing seems like a good measure.

I take to patting myself down, my coat is heavy and has many lumpy pockets. I can’t be sure because of that, but right around my chest… I pat a bit. Yep there’s something there. Not much. Just a little.

The man steps forward, “Is everything alright, miss? Are you injured?”

Miss.

_ Miss? _

The word freezes me in my investigation. It feels wrong. Hmm, maybe not wrong. Not now. Not anymore. It still feels incorrect, like I shouldn’t be called  _ miss.  _

Alright. Alright. One thing at a time. 

I shake my head at the tall man. Tall or am I just short now? One thing at a time.

“I think I’m okay,” I say.  _ One thing at a time. _

Deep breath. 

The man nods, “If it’s all the same to you, would you mind if my sister gave you a look over? She’s a healer.”

I shake my head again,” I don’t mind,” and reach for my face. I grab for something under my chin. Something which is no longer there, instead finding only soft skin and the smallest of hairs. 

_ One thing at a time. _

“I’ll turn and give you a bit of privacy then,” He nodded to the man, “Forgive Frederick. Nothing we say can prevent him from keeping a close eye.”

The armored man grunts out, “As my station demands.”

The girl comes over then and grabs on to my arm.

“Here let's sit you down. I’m gonna feel around your body. Tell me if anything hurts at all. My name’s Lissa, by the way. What’s yours?”

I sit down cross-legged, “I’m-” Oh.  _ Oh. _

_ One thing at a time. _

I think a little harder. Maybe a little too hard, when a stabbing pain shoots through my head and forces my eyes nearly shut in a wince.

“You okay?” Lissa asks.

“No I-I-”

“You’re not okay?”

I shake my head, “I can’t remember.”

“You can’t remember?” She parrots, “Your name?”

I nod.

She sucks in a breath, “Alright.”

Lissa pulls up my shirt just a little bit. Enough to get her arm underneath. She starts poking around. Her hands are cold.

She starts at the bottom of my stomach, just below my belly button, and works her way up. Things are okay at first, just a little uncomfortable to be having someone touch my body. Things change when Lissa gets to my ribs. 

She presses down with two fingers, forcing me to shy away in pain. I hiss the feeling away through my teeth.

Lissa lets up the pressure immediately, “Alright we’re gonna lay you down and i’m gonna have to pull your shirt up okay?”

I nod, “That’s fine.”

I lay down on my own, and Lissa works my shirt up. I have to lift my hips a bit to help her get the shirt off my back. Lissa stops lifting just below my… yeah.

I try to peek down at my ribs. Oh boy that’s a lot of fun colors. Purples, greens, and yellows.

The pain doesn’t really hit me until then. As if the sudden realization that I’m injured changes the fact that I have been injured the whole time.

Lissa pulls a staff out of… somewhere, I’m not sure. I can’t remember seeing her with it.

“For now I'm just going to do a bit of a blanket healing as a precaution. It’s not good on your body- healing it. I’m just going to fix anything that’s broken, and give your regular recovery a bit of a boost. It’ll still take a couple of days before you’re back in top shape,” Lissa says.

“Thank you,” is my response.

Lissa grins at her, “No Problem. You’ll need to eat and drink more than usual while you’re healing. Healing so fast uses up a lot of energy.”

“Okay.”

Lissa doesn’t say anymore. I think she’s concentrating on the healing. I don’t know much about whatever magic she’s doing. I don’t think I know much at all about magic.

I feel an odd pressure sensation in my chest. Like something is building, before it suddenly releases with a popping sound, and a bit of pain.

Lissa giggles as she puts down her staff, “Oh yeah one of your ribs was deeeefinitely broken. What’d you do to get like this?”

A simple question, with a not so simple answer. I tell her as such. 

_ One thing at a time _

Lissa stands up and helps me to my feet.

“I think I’ve heard of that. It’s called amnesia. I wasn’t so sure at first, but you can’t remember anything,” Lissa states

“Nothing. I don’t know where I'm at, what I was doing, or what my name is. Um-”

“It’s alright. We’ll help you through this. You see, my brother’s a bit of a specialist when it comes to odd cases,” Lissa said.

“Where am I?” I ask.

The blue haired man chimes in then, “We are in Ylisse, just east of Southton.”

“I see.” 

I do not see. All of those place names have no meaning to me. 

The man reaches out his hand towards me. He wiggles it a bit in the air, and quirks an eyebrow at me when I do nothing but stare.

“It’s a greeting. A handshake. My name’s Chrom.”

I move to take his hand then, but he’s standing a bit away, and I'm unsteady on my (new) feet.

I wobble into Lissa and she gasps in surprise. Suddenly the entire world is upside down, and I crash back down to the ground. When I slam into the grass and dirt all the air leaves my body in a harsh gasp.

With the air forced from my lungs, for a second, it feels like I might die. Suffocate. 

I can hear Chrom’s reprimand,”Frederick!” he calls sharply.

A few heavy gasps for breath have me back to normal, if a little light headed.

I look over, to where Lissa is standing. The armored man-Frederick- is now standing beside her. I hadn’t seen or heard him move, but it was doubtless him who had pushed me over. He has his weapon pointed at me.

“Stay where you are now. One wrong move and you’ll be put through,” He commands.

Like I was thinking of anything else. He didn’t need to say anything. The firm set of his jaw and the downward tilt of his lips was plenty. Not to mention the spear.

I don’t think there’s a need for me to nod or give an affirmative, so I just set my head back against the grass and close my eyes.

Lissa is indignant, “Did you  _ have  _ to do that Frederick? You already searched her-,”  _ her,  _ “-before you let us approach. You even took all her weapons.”

“One can never be too careful my lady. It is my duty to protect you from harm,” he says.

“She’s a little thing Frederick. Half your size. She’s smaller than Lissa, and we all know she’s a shorty-”

“Hey!” the girl cried.

Chrom chuckled.

I open my eyes then to observe their bickering. My shoulder and butt are both sore from the fall. 

_ One thing at a time. _

“She’s  _ unassuming,  _ milord. One would not expect it from her to be capable of heinous things, but she would not be the first of her kind that I have stopped. She may have a needle dipped in poison. Perhaps I failed to find a knife on her person.”

Chrom continues, “Frederick you would never miss a knife. I know you, and I know you take our safety seriously.”

If only Frederick’s frown could deepen, “Perhaps I won’t miss a knife. But I may miss a needle. Small and thin. She could have it on her person almost anywhere.”

Chrom sighs. It looks to me like this is a battle he’s familiar with losing. At least in this way. Chrom walks over to me then, and reaches his hand out again.

I grab hold of his hand for the second time in my brief history. I think it’s brief. I'm older than a child. I think I’m an adult. Despite my apparent age, it feels as if I'm empty. Things are missing from me that should be out front and center.

What is that mark on my hand? A tattoo of some kind? I know what a tattoo is. Why can’t I remember my name?

Chrom’s grip remains firm with my hand for a moment, and he gives me a gentle pat on the back.

“Southton isn’t far from here. We can try and figure things out a bit better with the comforts of food and shelter.”

He lets go of my hand, and holds out his elbow.

“Come on, I’ll help you keep your balance till you get your bearings. Grab on, I promise Frederick’s not going to be throwing you around again.”

I think Chrom’s promise is empty. Not that he doesn’t mean what he says, but rather that I don’t think Frederick cares much about Chrom’s reassurances. 

Chrom chuckles, “You don’t seem so sure. I assure you friend, that I’ll invite no harm to you, so long as you do the same for me. Is that good? Frederick?” 

I nod, and put my hand on his elbow

I hear a grunt behind me that can only be the surly man.

“I will be keeping a close eye,” he says.

Chrom sighs and shakes his head, “Of course you will. Please refrain from knocking her to the ground anymore. She is injured. Who knows how long she’s been out here,” Chrom looks at me, “Do you know how long you’ve been out here?”

I shake my head, “No. The first thing I remember is waking up.”

“I see,” He says, and starts walking.

Chrom starts slow, to let me build up to a more reasonable pace. I notice he’s taking smaller steps than he probably could be.

Me having my arm on Chrom prompts Lissa into action. I look behind to see her literally hanging on the armored man.

“Frederick,  _ she  _ gets an escort. Carry me. I’ve been walking all day,” She whines.

If Frederick’s face could get any more stern, I’m sure his cheeks might freeze in position.

Chrom responds in place of the knight, “Walking is good for you Lissa. I’ve never heard of a man who died of walking.”

Lissa groans, “ _ I’ll  _ die. I’ll be the first.”

Frederick butts in, “Would you like to ride on silver? She’d be more than happy to carry you.”

“No thanks,” the girl responded, “I’ll take sore feet over that.”

.

.

.

.

.

I occupy my time with heavy thoughts while we walk. There’s an easy atmosphere between the three of them, and I'm content to just soak it in. Let them talk. 

I’m not sure if everything they’re saying is supposed to be interesting, but it is to me. Chrom talks about the weather, or tells a story about what he did with Vaike last month. 

Maybe it’s interesting because I have nothing. I’m not sure.

  
  


I try to think about my memories. Figure out why they’re gone, and what my limits are. Trees for example.

I know what a tree is. I can tell by its shape and color. Trees aren’t grass, and I know what grass is too. Most trees have brown bark, and green leaves. Sometimes they have needles instead, but that’s as far as my knowledge goes.

I know about trees like I knew about Chrom. Before I knew him, Chrom was a human. A  _ man _ . A human and a man, and nothing more. 

I think the trees are like that. I’ve noticed that there’s different kinds of trees. What kind of trees are they? Do they have names like Chrom, Lissa, and Frederick?

Like I should?

  
  


Chrom is tall, or I’m short. I think I’m short. I have to hold my arm  _ up  _ while resting my hand on Chrom’s arm. The only reason it doesn’t grow sore is because I’m resting the full weight of my arm on him. He doesn’t complain.

I don’t think I’m supposed to be short. It feels wrong, kind of.

It’s not the only thing that’s wrong. I have a habit of reaching for my face. To touch or stroke something around my lips, chin, and neck. Whatever it is, isn’t there.

Walking is weird. I can do it, and I'm getting used to it. The way I’m walking is comfortable, but not right. I’m not sure why. It’s not so wrong that I want to change my gait, or whatever, but it’s something else on my list to think about. 

  
  


It’s not the worst of my worries at this point, but it’s certainly not the least.

It’s three words.

She.

Her. 

Miss. 

They feel wrong. Not physically, and not in the sense that it's bad. I believe I am a woman right now. Female. I think that’s one thing I’m sure of in this mess.

I didn’t used to be. I am now though. 

Maybe that’s why walking is a little weird? Why it feels weird to be short. Am I in a different body? Did I have a beard?

_ One thing at a time. _

.

.

.

.

.

An hour or so into our trip to Southton something happened. Something strange, and good. I think it made me happy.

While we’re walking down the path, a bird lands on my shoulder. Birds are like trees I think. This one is grey with a red chest. 

“What is it?” I whisper.

The bird tilts its head a bit while looking at me. It tweets a shrill sound.

“That’s a robin. A type of bird. It must like you to have come so close,” Chrom says.

The robin flies away at Chrom’s voice.

“I don’t think I’ve seen a bird before.”

Chrom smiles, “Then you are lucky to see a robin. They’re very beautiful birds.”

Lissa took it upon herself to name me. She says that I remind her of the robin. I don’t know how I remind her of a bird, but I don’t dislike it.

Robin it is.

.

.

.

.

.

My life so far has been very short. Only a couple of hours. Before that is the endless abyss of a blank memory. Everything has been new. Almost everything has been good. Even Frederick’s stoic skepticism is good. It lets me build an insight into his character.

There’s something in the distance which is not good. I don’t need my memories to know that so much smoke billowing into the sky is a bad thing. Far too much smoke. 

“Chrom what’s going on?” Lissa squeeks.

“We need to get over there now!” he starts sprinting.

“What about Robin?” Frederick calls, even as he mounts his horse.

Chrom doesn’t stop running, “Unless she’s on fire too she can wait!” He shouts back.

I watch as Lissa hops over to Frederick, and he pulls her up onto Silver.

Frederick gives me what I think is the most withering glare he can muster.

“Stay here,” he says, “There’ll be hell to pay if I find out you had anything to do with this.”

I don’t  _ think _ I have anything to do with whatever fire is going on. I think that’s probably Southton that’s burning.

Despite Frederick’s command. Fredericks warning. I still follow them. I’m not so unsteady on my feet as to be unable to walk or run. A couple hours of walking, and now necessity, have taken care of that.

The situation kind of reminds me of a fawn, fresh from it’s mother’s womb. I don’t even know what a fawn is. It was just the comparison that first popped in my head. The thought is accompanied by the image of a small brown and white creature. I assume this is a fawn.

The small creature, upon its birth, immediately attempts to get up and walk. With its new legs though, it is unable to be perfectly successful at first. It struggles and wobbles to stand, and it’s mother stands by and does nothing. 

I think the comparison ends there. I wasn’t alone in my struggle. Chrom and Lissa helped me. Frederick, at least, was there for protection. 

Protection from what, I’m not sure. I think I’m getting ready to find out though.

.

.

.

.

.

Frederick turns on me almost immediately when I show up. I’m a bit late, but he’s on a horse, and Chrom is just plain fast. The party had just finished dispatching a small group of armed men when I made it to them. 

Frederick has his lance pointed at me. About a hand’s length from my chest.

Chrom put his hand on Frederick’s arm, and forced the weapon down.

“Robin I thought you were going to stay behind? Do you know how to fight?”

I cross my arms and tilt my head just a little bit. Maybe it makes me more intimidating. Maybe it makes me seem larger or more confident? I’m not sure.

“I never said I was going to stay behind. Frederick told me to wait, but well…” 

Honestly I'm not sure why I ran after them. I don’t know if I can fight. 

I’m alone in this world. I think. I don’t know where I’m at. Where I’m from. Where I was going to.

Who I was? Who I am? Who will I become?

Chrom mentioned that I had weapons on me when they found me. Apparently Frederick had conducted a body search on me while I was asleep, before he let either of them get too close to me.

“Earlier Chrom, you said Frederick pulled some weapons off me? May I have them back? I’d like to help in whatever way I can.”

“Milord-”Frederick starts.

Chrom holds out a placating hand, “No Frederick. We could use all the help we can get. Even if she’s a bit inexperienced. Some help is better than no help,” Chrom turns to me then, “Just keep next to me okay? I don’t want you getting hurt. You’re already injured enough as it is.”

I try to muster a smirk, “I’ll be fine.”

Frederick makes no secret his displeasure at handing me my weapons back.

Frederick hands me a sword, and a book. A book? A book is a weapon?

Swords are easy enough to understand. Swing the sharp end at the guy you want dead. There’s probably a lot more finesse and discipline that actually goes into it, but that’s the basic concept. Swing the blade. Cut the dudes.

What’s the book though? I take it from Frederick. He’s even more reluctant to give me the book than the actual physical weapon.

I open it up to a random page. Oh.  _ Oh.  _ I know what this is. 

Not intellectually. No. I can’t physically understand what it is I’m looking at in the book, but it’s familiar to me. It is familiar to me. The book hums with a sort of energy. It calls to me, almost as if sparks of electricity are moving from my hands to the book and back.

“You can do magic?” Lissa asks.

I’m a bit distracted by the book when I answer, “Hmm probably.”

“Probably?” Frederick asks, “Probably! I pray to Naga that your probably is a yes. Do not point your magic at us.”

I shrug, “It’ll be fine. I can feel it,” I turn to point at the brigands ahead of us. They’ve taken up defensive positions.

“You see what they’re doing?” I ask. It’s rhetorical.

“Fortifying?” Chrom asks.

I nod, “They’re fortifying. Taking up defensive positions. They’re either smart or scared. I’d wager they aren’t that smart.”

Chrom frowns, “Why do you say that?”

I point to the center of their little formation, “You see that there? It’s where they’re grouping up. The cover they're taking. They’re trying to force use into a funnel down the alley, but we can just go around. Flank them along the river.”

Chrom’s eyes light up then, “I see.”

“They’re treating us like the rest of the villagers. As if we’re fighting out of fear. I think it is a herding tactic of some kind. The concept is familiar but I don’t know what to name it, or if it has a name.”

Frederick nodded, “A fine enough strategy. How did you come to know it?” he frowns, and raises an inquisitive eye at me.

I can only shrug in return. I don’t know.

“Logic I think. It makes sense that that’s what they’re doing.”

Chrom nods, “As fine a plan as any. I like it, and it make sense”

Lissa chimed in then. She hadn’t spoken in long enough that it actually surprised me. Enough to cause me to jump.

“Swords, sorcery, and tactics! Robin you’re a triple threat!” She exclaims.

I chuckle, “I’m not so sure about the sword. At least against these guys. Have you seen them? I think they’d overpower me quite quickly.”

Chrom turns to make his way around like I suggested, “Don’t discount skill and experience. I’ve won against men stronger than me more times than I can count.”

I don’t think experience matters in this situation. I have literally no experience.

I can’t think of a proper response to that. Instead I just hum my acknowledgement. I heard what he said.

  
  


My strategy goes off without a hitch. Just a simple flanking maneuver performed by a small group, but it let us take the bandits unaware. Not completely unaware. They knew we were coming in some way, they just didn’t know the angle of attack.

Frederick is a nightmare on the battlefield. I shudder to think what might happen to me should I perform some sleight to Chrom or Lissa.

Chrom himself is no pushover either. The man’s got a good swing, and so far out skills his opponents that he takes to showy flashy moves. This concerns me, personally. That he would forgo practicality to show off in a life and death situation. I think I even saw him shove his sword into the stone at one point. 

That can’t be good for the weapon. I don’t profess to be an expert on weapons. Hardly. I can’t remember anything about them, but I must have trained under someone, as holding my sword lets me fall into an easy stance automatically. 

Chrom’s statement about skill is true I think. Despite the obvious difference in size and strength between me and our adversaries, I'm holding my own.

The first brigand I go against is larger than me, like most of them. It feels like I'm reading an open book when he charges at me. He’s too predictable, and gives me plenty of time to ready a deadly counter attack. 

I spill his guts on the cobblestone. He’s as good as dead, but I'm unable to complete his final mercy. As he falls to the ground, another man surprises me.

He charges forward faster than I had expended, and from around a corner. 

I step back, and running on instinct I reach into my left sleeve. There’s nothing there but an empty holster. Perhaps a dagger.

At this moment I’m grateful that Chrom is paying attention. The brigand is too fast for me to get out of the way, and I'm hardly strong enough to block or deflect the swing from an axe delivered by a man twice my size.

Chrom bludgeons the man aside, knocking both his weapon and his head into the stone wall of the nearby building.

He turns to me, “You alright?” he rests a hand on my shoulder.

I take a deep breath. That was a bit too close for me.

“I’m fine Chrom. Thank you,” I say.

Chrom nods and lets go of my shoulder, “Be careful.”

.

.

.

.

.

After the battle, Chrom does not interrogate me as I expected him to.

Frederick does glare at me, and frown at me, and is generally being Frederick ‘The Wary.’ I’m unsure if that is an official title for him, or just a silly nickname given to him by Chrom and Lissa, but he takes obvious pride in it either way.

Frederick looks like he wants to interrogate me, even if Chrom isn’t going to, but he remains mostly silent on the issue.

He is silent until Chrom invites me to join them. They’re on their way to Ylisstol, the capital of Ylisse. He invites me to join their crew, and at this point I’m certain that they’re more than just sheep herds. 

The concept of nobility had been absent from my head until just before we left for the road. Chrom declines the offer of a feast  _ in his name.  _

He declines, and the townsfolk insist.

“My lord. Lord Chrom. You’re lordship,” They say.

The realization sits itself silent in the pit of my stomach like the heavy meal Chrom is generously declining.

It only occurred to me then, that I’m perhaps dealing with someone of nobility. Perhaps both Lissa and Chrom. All of a sudden it makes sense why they have an armed guard with them.

A body guard. A knight. Someone who is solely concerned with his charges' safety.

Before this moment I didn’t think about it at all, that I might have been discovered by someone important. Multiple important people. Surely even Frederick could be considered of a higher station than I am. 

  
  


Chrom declines the meal, and I can only despair for it. We set out on the road and I internally lament the lost opportunity to eat.

I do not complain, but I am famished. It sets me to wondering about that last time I ate. Certainly not in memory

The thought of food sets my stomach to aching. It’s a fierce feeling. I haven’t eaten all day, and perhaps longer still. I set my hand to my stomach, and it’s as if I can feel the emptiness there.

It’s empty like my head, I think. An apt analogy. I can’t remember a single thing, and I’m starved for information. It’s a kind of ravenous hunger I can only compare to eating, if only I knew of eating as more than a concept. 

My head tells me what food is. Mechanically, I know the process of eating. I take food and put it in my mouth, and use my teeth to chew it up and swallow it. Simple enough, but my brain supplies the concept of taste, and I can't liken the sense of taste to anything. 

I’ve had water since waking, but I don’t think I can use the taste of water to properly describe the concept of tasting. 

Water doesn’t have a taste, but the mouthpiece which keeps the water held within Chrom’s waterskin does, I think. It’s certainly got a texture to it. I’ll never tell him that I chewed on his waterskin out of curiosity though. 

With my hand I search my torso, almost absently. I reach up, and can feel my ribs sticking out, and when I wander lower I can feel the sharp angles of my hips. Perhaps I’m even hungrier than I thought.

I don’t want to dwell on it though. The hunger is fierce enough to nearly bring tears to my eyes, and my teeth ache for the thought of having something to sink into. Something to chew. I clack my teeth together a little, and it relieves the odd sort of desire for pressure. Only temporarily though and then it’s back, and has me grinding my teeth and clenching my jaw until it aches like my stomach.

“Are you okay Robin?” Lissa asks.

_ Oh.  _ I’m definitely dwelling on the gnawing hunger.

“No, no,” I say, “I’m fine.”

I’m probably not fine.

Lissa parrots my thoughts, “You don’t  _ look _ fine.”

I insist, “I’m alright. Just a bit hungry’s’all.”

My traitorous body chooses this moment to give up on me. It’s hard to see. Like everything’s out of focus.

I wobble into Lissa and she has to hold me.

Lissa starts speaking again, but to someone else.

“She’s rather pale. More than hungry I bet. She’s skin and bones. I couldn't tell you the last time she’s ate a meal, but it’s been a while.”

“Give her here,” Someone says, and then suddenly I'm bundled up against Chrom.

“We went hunting in these woods last spring. I think I remember a good spot to camp just ahead. We’ll have to turn in early for the day,” he says, and then, “Curse my sense of urgency.”

These last words he speaks so quiet I’m sure I’m the only one who’s heard them.

“Sorry,” I say. There’s not much else I can offer them. 

I’ve waylaid their journey to Ylisstol.

Chrom shakes his head and smiles down at me, “Don’t be sorry, but you do need to tell us if you aren’t feeling well. If you’re hungry, then you need to eat. If you're this hungry, then we probably should have stayed the night in Southton and properly given you time to recover.” 

He shifts his arms around me a bit, “That oversized coat of yours makes it hard to tell just by looking at you, and helping you up this morning didn’t really give me a good guess. You really  _ are  _ light as a feather. Not in a good way. If you’re gonna stick with us we’ll need to remedy that.”

I feel like I’m continuously at a loss for words on this most momentous day. The day of days for me. Maybe the most important day of my life. It’s the day I woke up. In this case, like several other cases today, I have nothing to say, and gift Chrom’s friendly attitude with silence. 

We make it to the spot Chrom was talking about. It’s a little clearing by a stream, which sits under a large…. tree of some kind. It’s a good tree. Really. Large, branchy, and leafy. Just like any good tree should be.

Chrom helps me down and I sit against the tree. Really, the pain of my hunger is growing more with time. It didn’t suddenly come on after the battle. I was hungry before then, but I hadn’t really thought about it. Just another odd pain to go with my broken ribs,  _ which I fought with,  _ my stiff neck, and my sore shoulder.

Truthfully I hadn’t even thought of eating or hunger until food was mentioned after the battle. Thinking about it once was more than enough to propel me into a spiral, of which I'm sure the battle did not help with.

Once I'm situated, Chrom pulls a bow(?), I think, off from Silver. I think it’s a bow. I’ve never seen a bow.

“I’m going to see about getting us something to eat. Maybe I’ll grab a bear. I haven’t had bear since our hunting trip last spring.”

I don’t know what a bear is, but perhaps it is an unsavory creature. Not perhaps, but for true, based on the way Lissa acts.

Lissa makes a horrible retching sound, “Chrom…” she complains, “Why can’t you just catch something normal. A rabbit, or a deer!”

Even Frederick reacts. His frown depends minutely.

Lissa continues, “Can’t Frederick go. At least he’ll catch something normal.”

Frederick shakes his head, “Absolutely not. I’ll not leave my lord and lady unprotected with one untested such as Robin,” he turns to Chrom, “Have you not considered this to be all an act milord?”

Lissa pouts, “Didn’t you hear a word I said earlier? I can guarantee you, as her doctor, that Robin is truly in poor condition. She needs food and rest.”

I watch Chrom sneak off while the two of them are bickering.

“Forgive me my lady, but why was this not brought up earlier?” Frederick continued.

Lissa makes a  _ humph _ sound, “She would have been fine, if we hadn’t had a battle. If we hadn’t had a battle, and then nearly immediately set out on the road. She’s had a long day, Frederick. She woke up, and had a healing done on her, then she marched for three hours, then killed people, then marched again. We haven’t eaten all day! I can only imagine how she’s feeling.”

I mean, I think Lissa has Frederick solidly beaten here, but….

“You two do realize I’m still here right?” I say.

Ah, that stops them.

Lissa turns to me, “Sorry.”

If they want to talk about me while I’m sitting right there as if I’m not there, they can go right ahead. I don’t really care. I only interrupted them because it left me feeling a bit awkward and out of place.

.

.

.

.

.

Chrom does indeed manage to catch himself a bear. He ends up mangling it a bit, and so he and Frederick don’t bother attempting to save the skin, but the meat is still good to eat. Chrom really had to kill a bear with his sword.

I’ve not seen a bear before. I can’t help but wonder If that’s a sentiment I share with the me of before I lost my memories.

I doubt what I get to see when Chrom drags its carcass back is a close approximation to what a bear actually looks like. He’s done a fine job of really tearing the thing to pieces. I mean it’s brown and fuzzy. Also quite smelly, but is that the death talking or just the creature’s natural odor?

When Chrom hands me a piece of bear meat it’s all I can do to not swallow the thing whole. The smell alone could feed me for a thousand years, yet it only makes me desire it more. I take a bite, and then another. I’d take a third bite, but I've filled my mouth, and there’s no more room.

I chew perhaps too quickly, and swallow so much at once that it hurts going down my throat.

Lissa laughs at whatever expression I'm probably making, “Slow down Robin! Slow down. You’re going to hurt yourself.” 

It’s hard to take it slow. I’m so hungry I almost can’t think to obey Lissa’s words

Either way I manage somehow. I slow down, until I’m forcefully and thoughtfully chewing each and every bite. Soon enough, I've finished off my first piece, and Frederick hands me another. 

I finish my second piece quicker, but no less carefully than my first

“More,” I say, “Please,” I add.

“I think you should let what you’ve had settle a bit Robin. You’ve had a lot.” Chrom says.

I shake my head. I’m far too hungry to not fight him on this. Despite the meal’s worth I’ve already eaten, I can't help but want more.

That’s what I  _ think  _ anyway. After I have that fabled third piece in my hands things change. I go for the bite, really the food is very good and smells wonderful, but something is off.

When I go for that bite, there’s a sudden pressure in the back of my throat, and my appetite is instantly gone. 

Lissa has to scramble out of the way as I empty the contents of my stomach on the ground next to her.

“Watch out!” she shouts. 

It’s an odd feeling. A horrible feeling. I’ve lost all control over my body, an I fall to the ground weak.

I sit there on my hands and knees and spend my stomach on the ground. It hurts. It leaves me coughing and sputtering, and when I think it's over, a new fit wracks my body. I’m heaving spittle and air, but nothing else is coming out.

There’s a burning now in my throat. I heave and wretch, and make such an awful noise. There’s a burning, and a terrible smell, and a horrible sickening taste. 

Lissa soothes me through it, rubbing gentle circles into my back. She’s pulled my hair behind my head. 

When I’m spent, I turn to look at her with the drool, and snot, and acid all dripping from my nose and mouth.

My throat feels raw and scorched.

“Am I dying Lissa?” I ask her.

When I speak, some of the air escapes from my nose, and pushes a bit of the remaining detritus from my nostrils. It’s gross and leaves it running down my upper lip.

Lissa chuckles, “You’re not gonna die. At least not from this. You just ate too much too fast. I don’t think you’ve had much to eat in a while, and your body isn’t used to so much at once.”

“Okay,” I say.

Lissa waves her hand out, “Chrom, can I get your handkerchief?”

I don’t see him as he wordlessly hands the piece to her. Lissa starts to dap at my face. I turn around so I can sit properly and take the handkerchief from her. I wipe my nose and mouth, and then try to blow and spit as much as I can out.

Lissa gingerly takes the soiled cloth from me, and hands me a waterskin. 

After drinking, only the terrible after-taste remains. And the smell. And the burning in my throat, like it's been scrubbed raw.

“Better?” Lissa asks.

“Better,” I rasp.

I scoot away from my mess and lay down on the grass. I’ve lost my appetite, but I’m still maddeningly hungry. It’s an odd combined feeling.

“What happened to me?” I ask the night sky, which peaks through the canopy of tree leaves.

Chrom responds, “It’s called vomiting. There’s a couple of words for it. Puking, spitting up, a few more- if you want to be informal, some might say barfing.” 

“Names of things,” I say, frowning, “There’s a lot of them.”   
Chrom laughs, “There sure is, isn’t there?”

I sigh and continue my staredown with the canopy. It rustles in the wind. There’s something soothing about the sound of the trees being pushed around in the wind.

Lissa leans over me, “Come on now. We need to try and get something in you to stay down. Even just a little bit.”

I shudder at the thought of puking again.

“I’d rather not go through that again, thank you.”

“It’s not up to you,” Lissa says, and rests her hands on her hips.

_ Of course it isn’t. Nothing so far has been.  _

_ One Thing At A Time _

I sigh, “Is there a way I might eat it without feeling like death?”

Lissa shrugged, “Very small portions to start. Normally with someone who has an upset stomach I would prepare a bowl of broth, but we don’t have much in the way of crockery out here.”

The thought of eating more has my stomach weeping for joy and shouting with fear. I’m desperately hungry I think. I felt better while eating, but now that I’m all empty again, I feel the absence of sustenance strongly.

“How much should I try?” I ask.

Lissa grins at me, “Just a few small bites for tonight. Maybe a bit more tomorrow morning, but we need to ease you into it.”

.

.

.

.

.

There will unfortunately be no more bear meat for a time. 

I’m forced awake in the uncomfortable cross section of dirt, and Frederick’s elbow. He’s got me pinned to the ground, with his arm firmly against my throat. It constricts my breathing.

“Where are Chrom and Lissa?” he demands.

“What?” I whisper. My voice is hoarse.

There’s a sudden loud explosion, and the ground is shaking. It shakes hard enough that Frederick loses whatever balance he has over me, and falls. The full weight of his arm bears down on my throat.

When I first woke up, I was in pain. Even over the course of the day I hurt, and was quite sore. Stretching my muscles, and straining the damage on my ribs with combat hurt too.

_ Nothing, and I mean Nothing compares to this moment. _

There is no comparable way in my limited history to describe the pain and panic of having my throat crushed. It hurts,  _ oh gods  _ it hurts. It hurts, and for a moment, I can’t breath. It’s not a long moment, but it’s long enough to have my eyes bulging and all four of my limbs to flail wildly.

Frederick gets up quickly, but does not apologize. 

“I must locate my lieges,” he says, “Ride with me, or do not move.”

There are not words to describe my desire for proximity with Frederick. I want nothing else in the world, for a moment, but for him to be far  _ far  _ away from me.

At the moment, however, that is not an option. In light of that, I silently follow Frederick to his horse. Silently because I do not think I can speak. Silently because I have no wish to talk to the knight.

He helps me onto Silver, and kicks his horse out into the forest. There is fire everywhere.

I have no experience with fire. Limited experience. It is a thing to use caution around, and I've seen it used for helpful and hurtful things so far.

This is the latter. This fire is all-consuming. It arcs between the trees and licks greedily at their branches. It feels unnatural, and dangerous like a beast. Perhaps like the bear. 

The bear had long claws, and a terrible set of teeth. I wonder what a creature of that size might do to a man. I wonder what a creature of the size I'm currently facing might do to a man.

The heat is intense. I feel it in waves as we gallop past flaming trees. There is a harsh wind blowing now, that promises to deliver the fire to more fuel. It blows the heat at us, and I can thank the stars I’m not in heavy metal armor like Frederick. He must be cooking.

We rush through the forest, and Frederick calls out for Chrom and Lissa. His horse leaps over a flaming log, the obedient thing.

It only takes us a few minutes to locate Chrom and Lissa. Chrom and Lissa, and a third stranger. A masked man in blue.

They’re both covered in dirt, Chrom and Lissa. He has his sword out, pointed not at the stranger, but something else.

Some creature imitating man. It spews forth vile purple fumes. It’s body is a mesh of stitching which holds it together. 

_ Is it dead? Undead?  _

Not alive, but not completely gone from the world.

Frederick brings Silver to a screeching halt right next to Chrom. Frederick and I both dismount.

“My lord! My lady!” he calls, “Are you alright?”

Chrom doesn’t look away from his quarry when he answers.

“We are uninjured. How fair you? Robin?” 

Chrom doesn’t wait for an answer before he charges the creature. It screams and spews more of the black-purple mist.

He lunges forward, and removes the head from the monster, but that doesn’t stop it. It makes to grab him, but Chrom steps back, and removes it’s limbs. Only then, after the creature has suffered extreme damage, does it fall. It crumples to the ground and disintegrates. 

“What was that?” Frederick asks, even as he looks Lissa over for wounds.

“I don’t know,” Comes Chrom’s reply, “They appeared as if from nowhere. Like they fell directly from the sky.”

“More incoming!” the stranger in blue calls, ‘Destroy as much of their body as you are able. The head and the limbs! Keep them from being able to move and attack.”

“Understood,” Frederick says.

I can’t help but feel some pange of apprehension at Fredericks sudden trust of the stranger. He nearly killed me a few minutes ago.

I can’t voice the complaints though. My voice won’t come. When I try to speak, pain lances through my throat, like I swallowed one thousand needles.

Chrom returns from his kill, and takes position next to me, like he had in our first battle.

“Are you alright?” he asks.

I can’t answer,

“Robin?” he says.

I shake my head and point to my throat. I hope he understands.

Unfortunately-fortunately he does. He sees the evidence. 

“Gods what happened? Your neck...”

I shake my head again. I can’t answer.

Lissa comes over, while Chrom leaves to stand with Frederick.

“We’ll face them side by side, Frederick,” Chrom says.

Frederick nods, “My lord,” he readies his lance.

The blue stranger stands awkwardly next to Chrom with their sword drawn.

I turn my attention back to Lissa. Just in time for her to begin poking and prodding at my neck.

“You’re a real danger-prone person, you know?” She says.

Lissa traces over my throat, and gently pushes her fingers into the skin of my neck in several places.

“Does it hurt here?” She asks, “Here, how about here?”

I nod to all of them

Lissa whistles, “”Freddy’s done a number on you. Are you hurt in any other way?” she asks.

I raise my eyebrows at her assumption. Smart of her to think of it, though I don’t suppose there’s much I could do on accident which would injure my neck in such a way.

Lissa brings her staff up, and the soft glow signals relief to me.

I take my hand to rub at the soft skin around my neck, “I’m fine otherwise Lissa. Frederick just fell is all. During all that shaking.”

Lissa quirks an eyebrow of her own, “He was at your throat during the earthquake?”

“He was interrogating me. Wanted to know where you and Chrom had gone off to,” I say. My voice sounds scratchy to my ears.

Lissa shakes her head, “Believe me Robin, I understand Frederick’s skepticism, I do, but Chrom’s going to have to have words with him about this one. That was some pretty serious bruising.

I try to give her the dumbest smile I can, “Looks like I'll have to eat even more at our next meal.”

Lissa snorts, “We’ll have to deal with this later. Get up there and work on those things. Keep back from the thick of it though. Doctor’s orders.”

Despite what apparent familiarity with magic, I still have yet to cast any. I wanted to, back in Southton, but Frederick’s wariness dissuaded me from trying out something potentially explosive in the middle of civilization. 

Fortunately for me there are no such inhibitions out here. We’re in the middle of a forest that’s already going to burn to the ground. Beyond that, we’re in perhaps the safest part of the burning forest. 

It’s an open clearing, and the grass has already been scorched to black, leaving only ashes and dirt behind. 

I pull the tome out of my pocket. Earlier I found a slot in my coat that fit the tome perfectly. Literally perfectly. As if the pocket itself had been built to holster the book. I can’t remember, but it probably had.

It’s here that I’m not quite sure what to do. Swinging the sword is simple enough. Swinging the weapon is a logical process. It makes the most literal kind of sense. A sword is sharp, and sharp things are meant to cut. 

The tome is different. It’s written in a language I feel like I should know, but I don’t. The pages are full of the illegible script and odd symbols.

It’s completely unintuitive, but there’s something about holding it that causes energy to jump between my hands.

I close the book and try to focus on that feeling. The energy. I think, and feel, and  _ will.  _ I think it is my will then, that lets me pull off the feat. The crackling energy comes, as if from nowhere, and collects in my hand. 

As I concentrate it simply coalesces more thickly. I let it gather in my hand for as long as I can stand, before the tingling of the energy starts to sting. I point it to the nearest of the creatures.

There’s a loud bang, and the force of the spell sends me reeling backwards and onto the ground. There’s nothing to watch, as the lightning spell is too fast, but I do get to see the aftermath of the damage. The monster I struck disappears, as if it was never there in the first place.

That was probably a little overkill. 

Chrom turns to look at me with his mouth half open in shock.

He composes himself, “I think you may have overdone it.”

“Yeah?” I say.

I scramble back to my feet a little unsteady. A feeling not unlike when I stand up too fast overcomes me. For a second my vision darkens to a tunnel, and the entire world feels like it’s spinning.

Only for a second though. Everything quickly comes back to normal focus. I can breathe normally again, and the battle swings back into view.


End file.
